


Of Catcher and of Caught

by icywind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Transformation, Because Tony sure has, Fluff and Humor, Grooming, Have you ever noticed how falconry equipment is a little kinky?, I did not mean for this to become a D/s bird fic - but it kind of did, In my defense - it's how Cooper's Hawks seem to roll, M/M, Mild D/S undertones, Mutual Pining, Not a tag I thought I would ever use, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icywind/pseuds/icywind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Bucky had become pretty good friends since the latter had joined the team – and then The Universe has to go and mess it up by Clint getting turned into a hawk.</p><p>With no idea how long it will last, the team makes due as best they can and slowly Clint manages to finds ways to reconnect with everyone – except for Bucky. Making things worse is the startling discovery that Clint's instincts as a hawk, which have no time for the normal hangups of human perception and societal conditioning, mark Bucky as his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Winterhawk Big Bang. Please check out the [amazing artwork](http://willamundain.tumblr.com/post/149860626455/i-did-a-thing-for-winterhawkbigbang) by Willa on Tumblr and give some love!
> 
> Not going to go in depth with "inspiration" or anything, but, I see a [video](http://redsector-a.tumblr.com/post/149856854650/yes-this-is-a-falcon-and-not-a-hawk-but-you) at work on a daily basis that has the best bird expressions ever - they're falcons, not hawks, but it was part of the genesis of this fic.
> 
> Clint gets turned into a male [Cooper's Hawk](https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Coopers_Hawk/id) for the record.
> 
> Title from the poem "Tamer and Hawk" by Thom Gunn

 

 

Looking back, Clint would be disappointed that things unfolded in such a stereotypical manner. One minute he was fine, calling out movement from on high, taking a shot here and there, and then there was a blinding flash of light and his world went dark.

He was dizzy when he came to, with no idea where he was or how long he'd been out. He was covered by something though – a heavy fabric? and not just his head, his entire body – and he struggled for a moment against it. Whatever had knocked him out had done a number on his body, his limbs felt awkward and weren't moving the way he wanted. Suddenly he heard a thud and the sound of gravel crunching – someone was on the roof with him.

Clint went still as the footfalls approached, they'd gone nearly silent – like they were trying to sneak up on someone. The steps stopped and his senses prickled. Whoever it was had stopped next to him. He was expecting to be kicked or hit, perhaps picked up and transferred to a more secure location.

That's not what happened.

“This is Barnes. I'm at his last known twenty. His gear is still here – bow, quiver, tac suit. No sign of Barton.”

What did he mean, no sign of Barton?

“I'm right here!” he shouted. Funny thing was, he could have sworn he heard a bird shrieking nearby, but not his own voice. Was he under some sort of stupid invisibility spell or something? Shifted into some sort of pocket reality that made the others unable to see him? Then, he blinked against the sudden bright light as whatever was covering him was removed.

“Bucky what the hell?!” And bird noises again. His heart sunk as the realization set in.

“Oh shit,” Clint shrieked. Well, in his head he said it vehemently with more than a little annoyance, but it came out as a shriek because yeah. He'd been turned into a bird.

Bucky was staring at him and finally managed a “holy shit,” of his own. His face no longer the calm mask it often was in battle but more the 'what the fuck – why is this a thing 21st Century?' look both he and Steve got (Steve nowhere near as often by now) when something particularly weird or messed up happened.

“I've been turned into a bird. I fucking hate magic. Please tell me I'm something at least decent and not a fucking pigeon or seagull or some shit,” Clint said (squawked? he wasn't quite sure how to classify his current vocalizations). 

He tried stomping his feet as best he could to get a look at his legs, but found his talons tangled in what must have been his tac suit. He started flailing, well, flapping his wings and making distressed noises (flailing, totally flailing). He couldn't help it really, he'd never been terribly fond of being constricted as a human but the lizard part of his bird brain (and wasn't that a strange thing) really didn't like it.

Bucky made a distressed noise and knelt down next to him. “Hey hey – Clint? God I hope, you're actually Clint and I'm not talking to a hawk, calm down.” He reached in and Clint struggled a little more. “Now now, shhh...”

Something was pulling at the fabric tangled around his feet and he thrashed again, the panic too much for him, his talon catching on something and Bucky pulled his flesh hand back to wipe the blood off of it. “Please don't bite me,” he said calmly, reaching his hand to Clint's head in order to carefully cover his eyes.

Suddenly Clint felt a whole hell of a lot calmer and in no time flat, Bucky's metal hand had cleared the tac suit away and gripped his legs, pulling him up and out. Bucky slowly removed the hand over his eyes and Clint turned his head this way and that, wings no longer flapping but the occasional noise falling out as he breathed heavily and twisted around until he could see Bucky.

“Don't look at me like that,” Bucky muttered and ducked his head away. There was a rush of wind and a sound like static and then Wanda had landed on the roof as well.

“Bucky? Have you found something?” She crossed over to them, head tilting to the side as she walked. “Bucky?”

Clint twisted to look at her and gave what was meant to be a pleased greeting. He had no idea how well that translated into bird though.

“Oh no...” Wanda's stride slowed, then she came to a stop. “Is that?”

“Pretty sure it's him.”

“Of course it's me!” Clint snapped, turning an affronted look towards Bucky. Wanda laughed lightly, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Well that certainly sounded like you offended him – and that was a very good approximation of his unimpressed look.”

“This is why I love you best,” Clint said, swinging back to look at her.

“That does not look comfortable – may I?”

“He might scratch you...”

“That was an accident!” Clint defended himself, turning another indignant gaze towards Bucky. “And I am sorry for it.” He didn't want to hurt him.

“I have my uniform. As long as he perches on my arm it should be fine.” Wanda replied, holding out her left arm.

“What if he flies away?”

“Energy manipulation, remember?” She waved the fingers of her right hand. “I will put him safely in a bubble. Besides,” the corners of her lips turned up into a hint of a smile. “Natasha wants you to check in.” 

The mission had started out small, Clint and Bucky on high and Natasha and Wanda on the ground. A simple information gathering run. Bucky and Clint really had only been brought along as backup (not that either woman needed it) and to keep an eye on things from above. They hadn't had much to do other than amuse themselves over the comms by picking out random things for the other to find via a series of convoluted clues (Natasha scolded them once about flirting over the comms – it hadn't been flirting, not really). Then a third party had become involved – a magic user to boot – and things had gone to hell in a handbasket real quick.

Bucky frowned, but edged closer to Wanda. Ever so carefully he braced his flesh hand against Clint's body and raised it, turning him more upright so Clint could grasp onto Wanda's arm when his legs were set free. Once Clint was settled, he stalked off, raising a hand to his ear to radio Natasha on the latest development.

“Will you let it go to your head if I tell you you are a very handsome bird?” Wanda asked, stroking her free hand carefully down Clint's back. He clicked his beak together a few times and ruffled his feathers in pride, eliciting a laugh from her. “Yes, I do believe it has to be you, Clint.” Her amusement from before fading as she followed up with, “But I have no idea how to get you back to being you.”

He met her gaze and chirped. It wasn't her fault this had happened and her skills, though formidable and not yet fully explored, would likely not be able to undo it.

“Natasha suggested taking the stairs back down to the vans.” Bucky said as he returned. “Tony's going to try and get ahold of Thor while we're heading back to the Tower, and Sam's going to call in a friend from the Audubon to check him out.”

The progress was slow as they descended the stairs, Bucky taking point and making sure things were clear before he'd allow Wanda to continue. It was one part touching and one part hilarious considering the raw power she could control, but she seemed to understand that he meant no insult and was just doing what came to him naturally.

“Just think of the cards we could've had for Christmas if he'd been turned into a bald eagle,” Natasha said with a quirk of her lips as she looked at Clint and then nodded towards Steve once the trio had made it out of the building.

“Captain America wishing you freedom this holiday season!” Steve said, snapping to attention and giving a jaunty PR salute. Wanda and Natasha laughed and even Clint had to admit it was pretty funny. Bucky just grunted and made his way to the back of the van to divest himself of some of his weapons. When Steve turned a questioning gaze onto Wanda and Clint she shook her head and he did his best to shrug his wings.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

“Whelp. I could call you bird brain again but it seems too easy,” Tony said once Sam's friend had finished her checkup and departed, leaving the collected Avengers at the Tower scattered across the lounge. Clint glared from his perch – a ridiculously expensive coat rack that would have to suffice until the ridiculous amount of birding supplies Tony had purchased while they'd been on their way back arrived.

“And with that face, it's definitely Barton.”

“He does have a point,” Sam agreed with a chuckle. Steve and Clint both turned a glare on him. Well, Clint glared. Steve's face was one part annoyance, one part half concealed amusement. “Oh come on – you have to admit a raptor's resting face is eerily similar to Clint's.”

From the corner of his vision Clint saw Natasha shrug and he squawked indignantly at her. “You're supposed to be on my side!”

“He does not lie, ptichka,” she replied with a smile.

 

 

~~

 

 

Thor had no easy answers for them; the magic was vaguely familiar to him, but he knew of no one on Midgard that was a user of it, nor had there been anyone there that did for centuries as far as he was aware. Soon after delivering the bad news he was off to Asgard with the promise that he would find out what he could, but stated that it was entirely possible they would just have to let the spell run its course. It wasn't the strongest of spells in his estimation. 

Clint understood the need for his departure, but at the same time found it a tiny bit annoying he no longer could communicate perfectly with the others (the All Speak was an amazing thing), though Vision seemed delighted by the idea of making an attempt to come up with some sort of translation matrix. He got pretty far by dint of body language at least and, it turned out, hawks had a wider variety of vocalizations than one would think.

Still, it didn't take terribly long before he was feeling a little isolated from the team. His flock, Tony had joked, and that hit more on the head than he wanted to admit. Birds and humans both were social creatures – it made sense he was feeling uneasy about not being able to do the normal stuff with them. No range time with Bucky. No sparring with Nat.

It probably had something to do with the fact that, at times, the others didn't seem to know what to do with him. He had perches all over – some purchased specifically for this (thank you, Pepper) and some that just happened organically. And while the joke about nests had been a popular one before (thank you, bird themed codename) to his slight embarrassment he found himself building actual nests here and there. One he figured could be written off as just someplace comfortable to sleep (his normal bed just really didn't cut it) but these additional ones...

After the first ten days though, he was starting to develop a routine and most of the team fell into line.

Wanda was the easiest. She delighted in having Clint perch on the couch with her to watch television or very carefully sit on her shoulder while she read. He fought against the instinct at first, but eventually would run his beak through her hair to 'preen' her, and was more than pleased when she would reciprocate as best she could by running her nails through his feathers.

Tony laughed when he saw that, but seemed equally pleased when Clint would absently groom his hair as well; albeit not as often as his instincts wanted to – sometimes Tony had far too many strange substances in his hair. They spent quite a lot more time in the garage together too. Clint perched on whatever car or armor (and, much to the bot's delight if the whirring was any indication – on Dummy) Tony was working on, occasionally fetching various tools for him. The combination rock music and Tony babble was soothing in its own way.

It didn't take too long before Sam was taking him outside so they could fly together. And sure, Clint couldn't keep up with Sam's powered wings, but it was wonderful and exhilarating anyway. They'd swoop and dive and perch where they could throughout the city and before long Falcon and his feathered friend was a trending topic on Twitter and Instagram.

Clint and Vision had always kept a weekly chess game and while it was awkward for him to hop around and move his pieces by beak and talon, his mind was no less sharp and the tradition continued.

Natasha sometimes allowed him to groom her, though more often he spent time with her while she was dancing or doing yoga, “assisting” her with her balance by perching on her. Natasha was the one that first noticed one of his new quirks – Clint had taken to “borrowing” items from each of his teammates to keep in his main nest. She started calling him Magpie when she found one of her scarves missing. He, of course, objected strenuously. He wasn't collecting shiny things, thanks, he just liked to have a bit of clothing from basically everyone on the team, something with their scent so that he always had a piece of them near him. It made him feel calmer. More centered.

Steve had jumped at the chance to study avian physiology up close and spent countless hours with Clint sketching him, getting up close to his wings, trying to capture the way his feathers lay over his body. Once they determined safe ways to do so he and Clint took to painting and using charcoal together in more unique pieces. When arts and crafts time was over, Steve was also more than amenable to letting Clint on his shoulder (another popular image on Instagram) while he worked on other things or read.

The only one in his flock that wasn't even really making an attempt was Bucky. Sure, he'd be in the room with the others, but he would always flinch and shy away when Clint made a move towards him and was careful to make sure they were never alone together. He even locked Clint out of the range when he was in it, even when some of the others were too.

It stung Clint more than he wanted to admit. They'd become quite close over the months since Bucky had joined the Avengers fold. Clint's experience with mind control was nowhere near as bad as Bucky's, but it was a point in common that they shared and Clint had been more than happy to lend an ear during Bucky's harder days. He'd thought they not only had an understanding, but a solid friendship. He didn't really want to be wrong about that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ptichka - little bird


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Clint had been snoozing in one of the nooks in the entertainment center, completely invisible to the rest of the room, when Steve and Bucky entered the lounge and woke him.

“Look Buck, all I'm saying is that I'm not the only one that's noticed.”

“It's nothing.”

“It's not nothing. He might not be able to go out on any missions with us right now, but Clint is still a part of the team. And team cohesion is important. You remember what it was like when Monty and Dernier would get into the occasional Anglo-Franco spats.”

“I'm not fighting with Clint, Steve.”

“You're right, you'd have to be near him to be fighting with him. You're just avoiding him.”

Clint heard Bucky sigh even over the sound of the television droning on. He could just imagine the way he'd bring his flesh and bone hand up to run through his hair and then scrub his face.

“I don't...It's not like I want to avoid him, okay?” He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear Bucky grumbling something under his breath. “I'm just nervous around him.”

What?

“How so?” Bless Steve and his infinite patience.

“He's just... He's just so small and fragile like that! When I found him up on that roof, you could see him breathing. I was barely touching him and I could feel his heartbeat. It would be so easy to hurt him and I don't. I don't want to do that. That's the last thing I want to happen.”

Okay. Clint could work with that. Bucky didn't want to accidentally hurt him. That made sense, actually, a lot of sense given his history. It was touching too to have confirmation that Bucky did care about him enough to be overly concerned about something like that.

Well. It seemed like in order to get things back to normal, or what would have to pass for normal while he was a hawk, Clint would have to push the issue himself.

 

 

~~

 

 

The following morning Clint was waiting in the kitchen for when Bucky and Steve returned from their run. Steve took one look at him perched on the fridge and raised an eyebrow. Clint leaned down a little and tilted his head to the side so that his beak was pointing towards Bucky and hoped Steve understood what he was implying.

“Hey Bucky – you feed Clint while I start on us, okay?”

Yes! He had understood. Clint couldn't wink, not really – bird eyes were just not made that way – but he did his best.

Bucky seemed like he was about to demur and Clint turned to face him head on. “Feed me, Seymour!” It was a crime no one would understand that reference – and for once it wasn't about them being time displaced.

“Okay, okay. Don't get your feathers in a twist,” Bucky replied, opening the door to pull out one of the raw steaks. He glanced up with a hint of a smile when Clint managed the chirruping noise that was his bird version of a laugh. Bucky worked quickly, washing his hands then cutting the steak into smaller pieces they would portion out to Clint throughout the day. After setting out his 'breakfast' on a plate Bucky turned to put the rest in the fridge.

Clint chirped at him.

“He likes it when you toss it to him so he can catch it,” Steve offered as he beat a large number of eggs together in a bowl.

“Hawks pull their food apart and eat it,” Bucky replied, glancing between Clint and Steve.

“Yeah, normal hawks do, but this is Clint. He likes a little...enrichment.” Clint flapped his wings at Steve's pronouncement.

“This is not very sanitary,” Bucky commented as he grabbed a piece and tossed it gently towards Clint who squawked excitedly and caught it out of the air. It was a little larger, so he had to grab it in his talon and tear chunks off. 

“That's why you get to clean his talons afterwards,” Steve replied.

Clint enjoyed Bucky's 'you've got to be shitting me' looks probably a little too much, and the one he was sporting now was a doozy. Still, it was taking away from his eating, so he let out a chirp to prod Bucky on.

“It's perfectly safe for the both of you so don't give me that look.”

Bucky expression remained skeptical, but Clint thought he appeared to enjoy feeding him at least a little bit, the corners of his mouth eventually turning up ever so slightly while Steve worked smoothly around them, preparing breakfast for Bucky and himself. Soon enough, Clint caught the last of the meat, then flapped over to the sink where Steve had put some paper toweling over the divider. He fixed his gaze on Bucky and let out a squawk while holding up a foot.

“You sure you don't want to do one to show me?” Bucky asked, washing his hands and looking at Steve with an imploring look.

“Sure. If you want burnt eggs,” Steve replied, passing a spatula around the pan of eggs. “Soapy one first, then wet one. It's easy, right Clint?”

“Sure as shit, Steve,” he replied, before tilting his head back towards Bucky. After hearing the conversation yesterday he wasn't too surprised to find a hint of fear in his clear blue eyes as he raised the soapy towel towards Clint's foot. With careful, barely there strokes he applied the suds as best he could to foot and talon.

“It's okay. You're doing good,” Clint tried to soothe. It came out as an almost cooing noise that seemed to startle Bucky. It startled Clint too, for that matter, and he covered it as best he could by pecking at the other toweling with his beak. Bucky grabbed that and just as carefully wiped away the suds, then repeated the procedure with Clint's other foot. Feeling slightly brave, Clint carefully and gently closed his talons around one of Bucky's fingers, ducked his head down then back up to meet his gaze, and let go again. He didn't know quite how to read the expression that earned him and he was glad, though probably not as glad as Bucky, when Steve announced that breakfast was ready.

As the two super soldiers ate Clint settled himself on his perch and listened in to the conversation, adding his own commentary here and there and trusted them both to know him well enough to understand the meaning behind the various calls and chirps they came out as. Eventually, Steve rose to prepare additional food and Bucky remained seated, nursing some coffee. The others began to trickle into the kitchen then, in various states of wakefulness. There were brief playful squabbles when Sam tried to take over cooking and Steve kept fending him off and Bucky held the coffee pot hostage until Pepper confirmed Tony was getting up from, not heading off, to bed. And Clint felt a warmth in his chest to see his flock – his family - safe and happy together.

Now, if only his mate would treat him normally again.

Wait a minute – mate?

Clint must have made a noise at his own startlement because Natasha raised her brow at him from where she was spreading cream cheese on her bagel. He managed to cover it by looking at Tony, who was conveniently raising some bacon to his mouth. Clint made another noise and Tony made an exaggerated 'I'm just nonchalantly stretching here, totally not holding out some bacon to my teammate that is currently a hawk, not at all' motion so Clint could snag a piece from him.

“You know, I'd scold you for that, but it's so much better behaved than the squabbling and stealing the two of you do when you're both human that I don't have the heart to,” Steve said with more than a hint of 'long suffering mother to two sassy children' in his tone.

“I've no idea what you mean,” Tony replied, holding his fist out for Clint to bump as best he could. As it turned out, hawk talons closed nicely into fists of a sort. 

Having a quiet freakout as a hawk wasn't all that different to having one as a human and Clint proceeded to do just that while the conversation moved on around him.

Mate. Bucky. Bucky as his mate.

Okay, sure, he really liked the guy. They had a lot in common - some of it good stuff, some of it bad stuff. They'd bonded really fast because of that and he liked to think Bucky was now one of his closest friends on the team. And that was it, really. They were friends. Mates in the (UK) English use of the word. While he wouldn't deny Bucky was attractive – he had eyes and a libido, thanks – he hadn't thought about him that way. Not really. Okay, maybe a little, but, anyone attracted to males would probably have had at least the casual thought cross their mind. He didn't feel anything special. And okay, yeah, he missed him when they didn't spend a lot of time together, but that didn't mean anything specific. He missed Natasha when she was on solo mission for a long time as well.

Except, when he looked at Bucky right now every new instinct he had, all of his hawk instincts, screamed at him – Mine. My mate.

It felt like somehow the instincts he felt as a hawk were able to cut through all the bullshit of being a human. All the societal ingrained hang-ups and tendencies to question things. All of his own personal issues and learned behaviors. None of those mattered anymore and he was left with a clear view of how he felt and what he wanted. What felt right.

What he felt was that he was well on his way to being in love.

What he wanted was to be with Bucky.

What felt right was spending the rest of his life with him.

It scared the shit out of the part of Clint that was still human.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Clint had been left reeling by the realization of how he felt about Bucky so for once he'd been the one doing the avoiding the rest of the day, taking to the skies as soon as the group had broken apart after breakfast. The wind in his feathers served to calm him, though nowhere near as well as it would have the day before.

He spent the day in Central Park, watching bird couples soaring through the air. Watching human couples wandering along the grounds. Wondering what it would be like to walk around with Bucky like they were doing. Would they hold hands? Stroll along the lake and maybe stop for ice cream? He liked to imagine he would probably end up smooshing one of the cones against Bucky's face just to watch him laugh.

Would they sit companionably on a bench and share the newspaper? Clint didn't often find much merit in them but Bucky enjoyed reading one, it made him feel normal. Maybe Clint could just snuggle in beside him and watch the people going about their daily lives.

Twice the tag on his leg that doubled as a comm unit chirped at him, requests from the other Avengers to check in and let them know he was okay. He tapped a reply but stayed out both times. It was only the third time, when Bucky's voice was the one making the inquiry, that saw him take to the air again and head back towards the tower.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

His second chance to prove to Bucky he had nothing to worry about while Clint was stuck as a hawk came the following day. Natasha, Pepper, and Wanda had decided to go shopping (well, the first two had and they cajoled Wanda into joining) and ended up roping Sam and Steve along with them to, as Natasha said, 'carry things and look pretty.' Neither of the two men minded at all. “I'm the pretty and he's the pack-mule, right?” Sam had declared; and Clint suspected Wanda and Steve would end up bonding a little at the absurdity of the consumer culture they had been swept into. And with Vision and Tony having flown to the Compound to help Rhodey with something, only Bucky and Clint were left in the tower.

Surprisingly, once everyone had departed, Bucky had not vanished into his suite of rooms or gone to the gym or range. He settled into the couch, just as he would have when Clint was still human.

“You okay with some Disney, or are the talking animals a little too much for you in your current state?” Bucky asked when Clint had flapped into the lounge behind him, settling on one of the many perches scattered around it.

“You're lucky you're cute. I should leave you a gift on your bike for that one,” Clint replied, feathers ruffling indignantly.

“Is that a yes, or a no?” The jerk had the audacity to look amused.

“If you like, Mr. Barnes, Captain Rogers uses a 'one squawk yes, two squawks no' method,” FRIDAY offered.

“Yes,” Clint squawked when Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. His mate was such an asshole. He liked it more than he should. 

Using that system, they ended up on The Little Mermaid after Clint vetoed Beauty and the Beast and Bucky had breezed past Robin Hood (to be fair, his reasoning was he'd rather listen to Clint prattle on about it when he could speak English again – Clint really wanted to rub his beak against Bucky's nose for that).

When the move began, Clint was on his perch, but not long after it began he flew to the couch. Bucky didn't really pay attention or comment. Using every bit of stealth he could muster, Clint slowly stepped his away along the couch until he eventually came to a stop near where Bucky's metal arm was resting along the back of it. Ever so carefully he brushed his wings against his hand.

Bucky's entire body gave a twitch.

“I trust you, you know,” Clint said – it came out very close to the cooing noise from the day before. Bucky's eyes darted to the side. “You won't hurt me.” With very deliberate and telegraphed movements Clint slowly shifted himself onto the fingers of Bucky's metal hand. He was a little confused for a moment at the strange feeling he got as he settled until he realized it was because Bucky was shaking ever so slightly. “It's okay. See? We're good.”

Eventually Bucky raised his hand from the couch, Clint firming his grip up as he did, and brought Clint around so that they were eye to eye. They stared at each other for several beats and Clint wished he was still able to smile because he really wanted to reassure Bucky that this was all okay.

“Do you-” Bucky's voice was a gravely rumble. “Um – is it weird to ask if I can pet you?”

Clint let out a single squawk and nodded his head as best he could. He followed the hesitant path of Bucky's flesh and bone hand as he raised it up, pausing briefly, before running it lightly from the tip of Clint's head down his body.

He really wished he could sigh.

He must have made some sort of noise because Bucky's hand twitched away and his face became concerned.

“No! Don't stop!” Clint cried, bodily shifting so he was bumping his head back into Bucky's hand.

“You actually like that, huh?” Bucky's voice held a note of wonder and for once, Clint was almost glad for how ridiculous his life was. If he hadn't been turned into a hawk he might have never heard Bucky's voice sound like that. The fact that his current state precluded him from hearing Bucky's voice in certain other ways was something he'd just have to deal with.

“I wish you could feel how nice it feels,” Clint replied, hoping some of the longing he was feeling properly translated.

“Is it the whole preening thing? Tasha said some stuff about that, how the social act of grooming might make you feel better. Feel connected to us. I guess I just wasn't sure you'd want that connection with me.”

Clint was all set to say something sassy about how amazing it was that Bucky actually had been listening to the 'bird briefings' (just because he knew now that Bucky had been avoiding him because he'd been worrying about hurting him didn't mean he couldn't be sassy now that they were trying to work through it) when the last part of what he said caught up to Clint.

How the fuck could his mate think that?!

“What do you mean you weren't sure I'd want that connection with you!?” Clint yelled, flapping his wings and taking to the air. “Of course I'd want that! Look, even ignoring this whole 'I want you to be my mate thing' you're one of my best friends for fucks sake!”

“Whoa, whoa, what did I do? I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Shit!” Bucky's face had gone pale and suddenly the fight drained right out of Clint. He circled around once more, then settled on the couch near Bucky's head.

“I'm fine. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me,” he'd switched back to the cooing sound and that seemed to be about the only thing that was keeping Bucky from bolting. Throwing caution to the wind, Clint leaned his entire body against Bucky's head, scraping his beak lightly against his scalp and making the most embarrassing pleased noises he'd ever made – as a human or a hawk.

Bucky seemed to sag, and Clint certainly heard him let out a sigh. Slowly, tentatively, he raised his hand up to settle against Clint's body. It effectively penned him in, but Clint found it didn't really bother him at all. He was safe here with Bucky.

“So – not upset? Or at least, not hurt?”

“No.”

“This is all kinds of weird.”

“You think it's weird, try being the one that's a hawk.”

Bucky ruffled a few of Clint's feathers and he was about to make another embarrassing noise because damn did that feel good, when Bucky said “So that wasn't one or two squawks. If you're going to ignore the yes/no system maybe we should try Morse Code or something. Tap it out.”

“Really, Barnes?” Clint couldn't help it, he tugged a little harshly on a lock of Bucky's hair and was rewarded with a tiny yelp and a laugh.

“Alright, alright,” Bucky chuckled, smoothing out Clint's feathers from how he'd ruffled them in annoyance. “Man, who knew the World's Greatest Marksman would resort to hair pulling.”

“Oh the innuendos I want to make right now,” Clint said with an inward sigh. Because if Bucky would be amenable to it he'd more than gladly tangle his fingers in his hair to tug and pull. Hold him close while they kissed, guide his head (and his sure to be talented mouth) to his inevitable erection...

He supposed he'd have to make do with grooming Bucky and being near him as often as possible until they figured out how to change him back or it wore off on its own.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

It started out innocently enough with Clint ruffling his feathers in pleasure and bobbing his head along to a song on the radio. By the end of the song Natasha had circled around and was giving him her best “evil genius” smile. Clint loved that smile. He'd had some of the best times of his life due to that smile (and, okay, more than a few very harrowing moments, but still).

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes Ms. Romanoff?”

“Can you pull up Planet Earth? Specifically the Bird of Paradise videos?”

Smiles didn't translate well into hawk form, but Clint did his best to beam at Natasha. That was a fantastic idea.

He didn't have the right build or plumage, but Clint felt he pulled off more than a few dances quite nicely. Though Natasha had asked for the Birds of Paradise at first, he actually started off with a few other birds – all the better for warming up. Tony had joined them after his first 'practice' dance, Steve and Wanda a few videos later. Clint was in the middle of the Superb Bird of Paradise's video when Bucky came in. He couldn't have timed it better if he tried. He'd curled his wings up a little, tilted his head to the side, and was turning around just as Buck entered the room – which effectively left him dancing **for** Bucky.

If anyone accused him of adding a little extra pep to his hopping he'd deny it. He'd also deny putting a little something extra into the subsequent dances – and that he centered them all on Bucky whose smile was doing funny things to his heart.

Dancing was apparently terribly exhausting for a bird, as not long after finishing the final queued video Clint flapped up into Bucky's lap and collapsed into what Tony liked to call 'bird loaf.' He sighed as soon as Bucky lightly ruffled his feathers and did his best to snuggle further into his lap. It would have been a little nicer for cuddling purposes if he'd been a dog or a cat.

“How many videos did you make him copy?” Bucky asked Natasha as the rest of the group dispersed from the sound of it.

“Not too many, he probably just needs a nap before dinner,” she replied.

Clint listened idly to the conversation and silently agreed that a nap sounded like an awesome idea, tucking his head under his wing with the intent to do just that.

“Looks like you're stuck here for a bit. Someone'll be by to collect you two for dinner,” Natasha said before the soft patter of footfalls signaled her departure.

Clint had no real idea how much time had passed but he was floating in that hazy spot where he was mostly asleep but still sort of awake. It was pretty common for him in hawk form and he guessed it was some sort of defense mechanism or something. Either way, he was pretty sure the others didn't realize he wasn't always as asleep as he might otherwise appear. He never meant for it to be a way for him to listen in on things he maybe shouldn't hear, but that's how it was about to turn out.

“As amusing as that was earlier, I really fucking miss you, Barton. Human you, anyway,” Bucky said, sotto voce. “It's funny really, because I guess I never really thought about how close we'd gotten. It just sort of happen. But there it is. I miss my friend.”

Clint held himself still as he could while still retaining the illusion of being asleep – it was a great deal easier to fool everyone when he was a bird versus when he was a human. 

“And how stupid is it that I can't tell you how I feel about you until you're a fucking bird and you're asleep for that matter.”

How he felt? But Clint already knew they were friends. Everyone knew they were friends (hell even the tabloids liked to make innuendos about it). Maybe Bucky meant more along the lines he hadn't been able to admit the level of friendship before? Or did he mean something else?

Something dangerous took flight in Clint's chest – it felt a little like hope.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could Bucky pass up sweet moves like [these](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7QZnwKqopo)?


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

What exactly Bucky meant when he said he couldn't admit how he felt about him continued to bother Clint for the next week. Sure, he knew for certain now how **he** felt, but he was spending a lot of time waffling back and forth about how Bucky did. He took to hanging out with Wanda a lot because even with being a hawk, Natasha had taken one look at him and shook her head. “I will not be your go between in this, ptichka, you two need to work this out.” 

Natasha subscribed to tough love when it came to Clint's love life. Wanda subscribed to 'amused and probably a little confused but still supportive about it' in regards to his love life.

In her defense, she hadn't known him as long.

“It's so stupid. I mean, I know that I consider him my mate and I suppose I was good just dealing with the idea of unrequited feelings or something but now – what did he mean by that?” Clint said for probably the thousandth time that week. It was therapeutic, really, how many new and interesting vocalizations he could make to express being a lovelorn bird.

“This is probably radical idea, but have you thought about asking him how he feels?” Sure, Wanda didn't speak hawk any more than Clint currently spoke English, but when he kept making soulful eyes and longing noises in Bucky's direction it translated easy enough. He fixed her with a 'you're kidding, right?' look and she laughed at him. “Of course, how silly of me. Talking about feelings never works.”

“Well it's not like I can chirp my way through asking him do you love me, yes/no.” She rubbed a finger right at the point where his beak met his head and he instantly relaxed, melting into a hawky-puddle of boneless goo. “That's not fair.”

“I thought I was the only one that had figured out that trick,” Bucky said from behind the couch. Clint watched him stalk around the couch and end up in one of the arm chairs. He couldn't read the expression on his face.

“Well, to be fair, I did have a head start in handling him like this,” Wanda replied and Clint felt torn between being proud of her and feeling bad for how Bucky's face went a little sad. “Still, he is much happier now that the two of you spend more time together.”

Clint could kiss her for saying that, especially when Bucky looked almost bashful when he asked “Really?”

“Really.”

Clint wondered if he should say something, maybe do something, he was right there in the room with them after all. Bucky saved him from having to decide though.

“Well then maybe he'll like the idea I've had,” Bucky began, leaning forward in his chair to better address the both of them. “I thought we could go to Central Park for a falconry thing today. Could be fun and it'll make Steve happy because it gets me out of the house.”

“Steve does worry a lot about that,” Clint agreed.

“That's not the system, Barton.” Bucky grinned. Clint could feel Wanda's chuckle from his spot on her lap.

“Yes,” he chirped, waiting carefully to make sure the single note was plain before adding, “Yes please, take me on this dorky birding date of yours.”

 

 

~~

 

 

“I'm not going in the box until we get closer to the park,” Clint said, as Bucky was gathering the gear they needed. It wasn't like they could tell people 'oh don't worry – he's not really a hawk, he's a man that was turned into one, I don't need the usual gear for him – he'll behave.' That was a one way ticket to getting Bucky a psych eval and Clint ending up in animal control.

“You're not going to be put in the box right now, don't worry,” Bucky replied, correctly guessing what Clint was going on about. “But it'll be a lot easier to get some of the other gear on you now than in a moving car.”

“Fine.” Clint hoped his long suffering sigh translated as he held his foot out for Bucky to attach the purple leather jess to his leg.

“I'm wondering if we shouldn't put the hood on here,” Bucky mused.

“Absolutely not.”

“You really didn't do all that well on the last car ride you know.”

“I'd just been turned into a bird! You try and be calm about that!”

“You're difficult to argue with like this you know,” Bucky told him, leaning in so they were eye to eye. “I think you should wear the hood.”

“No.”

“You'll be more comfortable.”

“Nyet.”

“I promise, you'll be calmer.”

“N. O. No.”

“You know I've got your back, right?” Bucky said, voice low and quiet. “Don't you trust me?”

“That's not fair,” Clint replied, tilting his head to meet Bucky's gaze better. He wasn't sure what to call the look on his face. “You know I trust you.”

“I want this to be fun, and it'll be more fun if you're calm.”

The thing of it was, Clint knew he was right. Car rides were a little unnerving to him in this form and he knew that having his eyes covered would calm him down (a far cry from what would happen to him were he blindfolded as a human). Of course, he'd only really had Bucky cover his eyes. And the more he thought about it the more he was sure he didn't really want anyone else doing so.

“Oh – hello! Kinky bird times huh?” Tony smirked as he breezed into the lounge. “All that leather, I didn't know you guys had it in you. Hoods, blindfolds, and cords,” he made a quick whipping noise. “The secret lives of assassins.”

From his close-up position Clint could see a blush forming on Bucky's cheeks and cocked his head the other way to watch as he cleared his throat and straightened up.

“Gotta keep Barton on a tight leash, Barnes?”

“Don't you have something you should be doing, Stark?” And yeah, that was a blush Bucky was sporting – it had spread onto his neck Clint couldn't help but notice.

“I sure don-” Tony cut himself off when he turned around and saw Bucky. “Doooooooo. I sure done do, as it turns out.” He made comically big eyes at Clint (WTF, I'm sorry!) and tracked back across the room. “You boys have fun. Do things I would do!” And with that, he vanished back into the elevator.

Clint's ears as a hawk were pretty good, but he couldn't quite make out what Bucky was muttering as he stood with a hand over his face, posture slumped, ears still red. He was embarrassed by the innuendo. He never had been before – usually he gave as good as he got. 

It had to mean something.

Clint gave Bucky a moment to himself before flapping his wings and letting out a low whistle. He bowed his head a little and looked up at his mate from that position.

“Go ahead. Put it on me.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

Bucky waited until Clint was perched comfortably on his arm before he removed the hood. Clint blinked a few times, then honed his gaze in on Bucky before letting out a soft noise of greeting. Bucky had murmured softly to him throughout the entire car ride over and that, along with the hood (much as Clint didn't want to admit it) had made the trip in the cage much more bearable.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Bucky smiled at him and stroked a finger along his back. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“It's lovely how sweetly you talk to him,” a blond woman said as she approached. “Almost as if you expect him to understand you.”

“Well, he's a lot smarter than most people give him credit for,” Bucky replied, lips curling a little at the edges as he looked at Clint. “Why wouldn't I?”

“That's a very refreshing attitude,” the woman – Leslie by her name-tag – replied. “I don't think I've seen you here before. I'm Leslie Miller.”

“James Buchanan,” Bucky replied, taking her hand in a firm shake. “And this is Clint.”

“Well hello Clint,” she replied, thankfully looking directly at him as she spoke. “You're a handsome fellow, aren't you?”

Clint puffed up his feathers and stuck out his chest. Yes. He was a very pretty bird, thank you. 

“How uncanny!” Leslie laughed. “He must get that compliment a lot.”

“I really should tell him every day,” Bucky said, a quick flash of something (panic? maybe?) in his eyes one second and gone the next when he realized what he said.

Clint very much wanted to do a little dance of joy - Bucky thought he was handsome.

“I also imagine you hear that quite a bit yourself,” Leslie continued, stepping slightly closer to Bucky and angling so she was looking at him through her eyelashes.

Oh HELL no, Clint thought, narrowing his eyes at her. This woman was not making moves on his mate.

“Well, I don't know about that,” Bucky laughed.

“Trust me, you are quite handsome.”

“Why thank you,” Bucky nodded, a little bit of color at the tips of his ears. According to Steve, Buck had been very smooth with the ladies in their youth. It was a skill he had yet to bring back into its prime.

Frankly, if Clint had his way, Bucky wouldn't need that skill anymore at all. The only person he needed to be smooth with was Clint himself.

With that thought in mind, he let out a 'kek' in warning when Leslie blinked up at Bucky again.

“You know, I haven't seen you around at one of our events before,” Leslie said to Bucky, ignoring Clint.

That wasn't going to work out well for her.

“Well, we're fairly new to the area,” Bucky replied with a nonchalant shrug.

“I thought so,” Leslie replied. “Where are you from?” Clint ruffled his feathers some and “kek'ed” a few more times as she spoke.

“Ohio.” Bucky glanced towards Clint, his eyes silently asking 'what the hell?' “Clint's been getting a little excited here in such a big city so we haven't done any group work.”

“Well,” Leslie reached out to put a hand on Bucky's shoulder and Clint saw red, shrieking and carrying on. “It's good to meet you,” she continued, clearly changing what she was about to say and withdrawing her hand while looking rather aghast at Clint. “Excuse me.”

“What the hell was that about?” Bucky said, after Leslie had retreated and the few onlookers that had taken note of the spectacle lost interest.

“She was coming on to you!” Clint replied. “And touching you without permission!” Now that the situation was over, he felt a little guilty. Especially with Bucky giving him that look. The one that said he was disappointed. He didn't want to disappoint Bucky. He'd just – he couldn't control himself when she'd touched him. His mate. 

“I'm sorry,” the sound Clint made was low, beseeching, and as he made it he bowed deeply to Bucky. “I'll try to behave better, I promise.”

Bucky's stern expression lasted about twenty seconds in the face of Clint's groveling, a smile broke out and he shook his head on a laugh, reaching up to stroke Clint's feathers. “You're terrible like this, you know?” Clint was going to chirp a question at what exactly he meant by that but he forgot all about it when Bucky rubbed against his beak, slumping and letting out some very satisfied chirrups. “I don't know why I encourage you.”

_Encourage me more_ , Clint thought amidst the haze of contented pleasure.

 

 

~~

 

 

Despite the shaky start to the event, the day as a whole was a success. Clint had an absolute blast flying – weaving in and out of the branches and hunting down his prey. Even better, was bringing it back to his mate. Everyone enjoyed praise for a job well done, including Clint, but nothing could quite match how good he felt when Bucky smiled so wide at him and told him how well he'd done.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

About five weeks after he'd been turned, the call went up to assemble. 

FRIDAY and Vision had been monitoring some activity and noticed similar readings to the battle that had ended with Clint becoming a hawk and the magic user vanishing. The collected team made sure Clint stayed put in the tower before they jetted off, promising him they'd capture the person alive and bring him in to get him to change him back.

Yeah. Like hell Clint was going to stay put. 

Maybe if they'd put him in his cage, but they'd all been in too big of a hurry (not to mention no one enjoyed how he pouted when it happened). What he lacked in opposable thumbs, he made up for in smaller size and increased dexterity – not to mention he could fly. It was laughably short work to figure out a way out of the tower and though he figured FRIDAY would likely alert the others that he had made his way out and Wanda would probably end up ensnaring him and securing him in the Quinjet, but he had to do something.

The attack was in Central Park this time, with plenty of cover for a hawk like him. Maybe he could make it to Bucky's position and get a weapon of some kind? His mate wouldn't be pleased, but he of all people would understand how Clint needed to help.

Darting through the trees, Clint never did make it to Bucky's position. He couldn't say if he was somehow drawn to the magic user or if it had just been luck but he found him before anyone from his team. Perching silently on a branch, Clint watched him for a moment as he paced and muttered to himself. He didn't look like anything special. Frankly, he looked a lot like a kid messing around with something far outside his knowledge or ability to control.

Clint's keen hawk senses picked up on movement to the left a second before the magic user did (or so he thought anyway) as a warning shot rang out, brushing just past him – from the right. Unfortunately, the magic user hadn't fallen for it and sent a bolt of energy streaking towards the left– and right into Bucky.

With an angry cry Clint tore out of the trees, raking his talons across the magic user's face. He felt a visceral sense of satisfaction when the scent of blood flooded the air around him, he was going to make this man pay for trying to hurt his mate. He took one final good swipe before flitting into the trees on the other side of the clearing with a plan to regroup and come at the magic user again. 

His senses were amazing and his body built for flight through tight areas – he should have been rendered essentially invisible. Too bad the comm on his leg was now blowing up with the voices of his teammates.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Clint squawked angrily at it, tearing at it with talon and then beak in an effort to silence it or break it off as he climbed through the air – and out of cover. He'd thought he'd made it far enough away and done enough damage that the magic user wouldn't see him. He was turning back towards the clearing, deciding to come in at a dive this time for some good momentum, when an eerily familiar bolt hit him and his entire body seized. The pain was worse this time around as he suddenly got bigger and bigger, wings replaced by arms, sharp talons by feet. 

The last thing he heard as the comm was stretched too far and snapped off around his newly returned ankle was Bucky's startled “Clint!” His mate was okay. Despite the pain he felt a flood of relief...until suddenly he, like the broken comm, was falling, the leaves and branches that had concealed him moments before reaching up to embrace him as he hurtled towards them with alarming speed.

And then, everything went black once more.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Clint was flying again, flying – not falling – and the wind in his feathers felt like freedom. He didn't want to give this up. Not ever. 

Nothing felt as good as this. 

The band on his leg kept beeping at him, voices filtering out. His teammates – his flock – asking him to come home. But why would he need to come home? The entire world was out ahead of him and he felt like he could fly forever.

“Clint.”

Except... That was Bucky's voice. His mate's voice.

His mate was calling him to come home.

With a fierce cry he wheeled around and dove towards the helipad of the Tower where Bucky stood waiting for him. They'd done this countless times before. Unlike before though, Clint could feel his body lengthen as he swooped in – wings becoming arms, legs extended to his human length and rather than landing on Bucky's arm he ended up being encircled by them upon touchdown, their lips pressing together in a sweet kiss.

“I love you.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Clint estimated he woke now and again maybe three or four times before it finally stuck. During each brief glimpse into consciousness he saw a different teammate at his bedside.

None of them were ever Bucky.

Finally Clint managed to stay awake for longer than a few seconds. He was a little surprised he didn't hurt more than he did before he realized he was probably on some of the heavier drugs. He'd have to be careful about what he said and to whom.

“You're not too badly hurt, all things considered,” Steve said from his side. “Plenty of cuts and contusions, broken wrist, and you wrenched a knee.”

“I've definitely had worse,” Clint replied. Steve offered a grim smile when Clint met his gaze.

“Thor guessed it could've been the residual magic that kept things lighter for you. Something about the residual energy needing to go somewhere and it went into healing you.”

“Well that would be the first time magic did something semi decent for me.”

“It was weird though, because despite the injuries not being severe enough, you've been in a coma for three days and the doctors didn't know why,” Steve continued, worried look on his face. “Then, sometime yesterday, your vitals evened out and they finally were sure you'd actually wake up. And you kind of did – if fluttering your eyes a few times counts as waking up.” He tried to smile at that, though the concern was still very much etched into his features. 

Clint wasn't really sure what to make of that. He thought he'd just been in an out of consciousness, and had had no idea he'd been days in a coma. It made him think back to some of the dreams he'd had. The ones where he'd been flying... 

Clint tried to crane his head around in a nonchalant way but Steve caught him out on it.

“He's not here.”

“Oh.” Well, Clint didn't necessarily blame Bucky for not being there. They were friends, sure, but it's not like he had to wait at his sickbed or anything. Even if...and Clint sighed because the beautiful surety and confidence that Bucky was his mate that he had felt while he was a hawk was no longer there. 

The loss stung more than he cared to admit.

“I had to bully him into showering and getting a bite to eat,” Steve said. “He's been here the entire time with you.”

“Oh.” Clint's traitorous lips curled into the hint of a smile as warmth flowed through him. “But I didn't see him.” That sounded a little pathetic. He hadn't really recognized anyone during his brief moments of consciousness (if you could call them that).

“The rest of us have taken turns sitting with you as well,” Steve continued. “When we did, he took to hovering. It's...” Steve's face did something complicated. “It's something he does when he's worried but can't do anything about it.”

Clint was letting that digest when Steve's hand landed on his and brought his thoughts back around again. His face was doing something strange again and Clint wasn't sure whether to brace himself or ask if he could help. It probably was the first.

“I wanted to thank you,” Steve said and he was putting the full on earnest face on for this. “I actually meant to talk to you sooner about this, so, thank you. For being you. Befriending Buck.”

“Is this going to be a shovel talk or a, or-”

“No, it's not a shovel talk,” Steve laughed.

“Because Captain America giving a shovel talk...”

“It's not a shovel talk, Clint. And I'm not Captain America right now. I'm just Steve from Brooklyn whose pretty damn happy two of his friends have a chance at something good together.”

“Have a chance at something.”

“Well yeah. Relationship. Dating. Whatever the two of you want to call it.”

“Yeah?” Oh man that sounded way goofier than Clint had wanted it to. He'd be willing to bet his smile was pretty damn stupid looking too.

“Yeah.”

He patted Clint's hand. Actually patted it. Clint smiled helplessly in reply. Captain America approved of him wanting to date his best friend.

“But don't get me wrong Clint. You're going to have to be patient with him. You're going to have to give him time and stick with it. Same as you did with the friendship.”

“Is this a 'he's not had a thing with a dude before' thing?” It was a fair question. Clint didn't know a hell of a lot about Bucky's romantic life other than he'd been very popular with the girls. They talked about a lot of things, but never really much about Bucky's love life.

“Hell no, Buck's had boyfriends before.”

So that meant it was more the seventy years of brainwashing and captivity then. Yeah. Clint could deal with that. He'd be the most patient person in the world for Bucky to make sure he was comfortable. And happy.

 

 

~~

 

 

Clint had faded not too long after Steve's declaration that Bucky had had boyfriends before and when he woke next his room was dim, not quite dark, evening perhaps? Maybe the same day?

“Welcome back, Aurora,” a gravely and much welcomed voice said from the side of the bed.

“Bucky...” Clint breathed the name and turned onto his side, curling towards him with the dopiest smile on his face. He looked – tired. Good still, it would take a lot for Clint to not think Bucky looked good, but very tired. Dark bags under his eyes and worry lines that hadn't had time to smooth out. “How you feeling?”

“How'm I feeling?” Bucky laughed and Clint's heart thumped wildly at the sound. “M'good, bird-brain, but please don't ever, **ever** , do that to me again.” 

Clint glanced down to see that Bucky had taken his hand and was holding it as tightly as he dared. His blue eyes were concerned but also – fond. And maybe something else. Something deeper.

“I'd say I don't do it that often-”

“But we both know that's a lie.”

“Yeah.” It was Clint's turn to huff out a laugh. “I'll try not to be too rash in my choices in the future but-”

“But you wouldn't be the man I love if you promised you wouldn't do it again if you thought it would help save someone,” Bucky said. 

“Love?” Clint's voice squeaked a bit on the word but he raised his gaze up to meet Bucky's anyway. And what he saw filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. Bucky looked so sure, so confident. No panic at all at the admission.

“Yeah, love.” Bucky raised his metal hand to slide a finger down the side of Clint's face and he shivered at how warm it felt. “God help me I've fallen for a self-sacrificing yutz who doesn't know how to save himself.”

“Well – that's why I have you to watch my back,” Clint replied with a smile.

“Yeah, you do. Always will too.” Bucky leaned in close. “I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Clint nodded and sighed at the first soft press of Bucky's lips against his. It happened again and again, a dry press of lips, followed the third time by Bucky rubbing his nose against Clint's then taking advantage of his laugh by deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with Clint's languidly. They traded control of the slow kisses, but neither pressed the issue. There was certainly a fire to be stoked but with Clint's injuries and Bucky's exhaustion neither one was about to light the match.

“I love you too,” Clint finally breathed when they pulled apart.

“'Course you do,” Bucky chuckled before pressing another kiss to his lips and then leaning back in his chair. They stared at each other for a moment before Bucky laughed again, glancing up at the ceiling as he trailed off. “Do you know how much Animal Planet I watched over the last month?”

“Too much?” Clint replied, with a chuckle of his own.

“I'm just glad FRIDAY is a good bro – can a female AI be a bro? - Anyway, I'm glad she'll never tell Wilson about my internet search history.”

“It wasn't like, freaky bird sex stuff, was it?”

“God no, just the courting habits of male Cooper's Hawks,” Bucky straightened up and looked back at Clint, his smile so very fond and happy. “Food gifting. Territorial displays. Submissive behavior. You were not a subtle bird, you know.”

“Not really a subtle man either,” Clint shrugged.

“Subtle enough that I wasn't sure for a while...” Bucky fond look went a little contemplative. “I'd like to hope we'd maybe have gotten our act together if this hadn't happened.”

“But it might have taken a lot longer?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed and tried to stifle a yawn.

“Okay,” Clint said, pulling his hand from Bucky's so he could better shift himself over on the bed. “Come on, time for one of the unsexiest ever first times sharing a bed.” Bucky chuckled, but humored Clint, settling himself in beside him. It took a moment, but they managed to arrange themselves fairly comfortably, limbs entangled, with Bucky very gently cradling Clint's broken wrist. Clint waited and watched until Bucky eventually closed his eyes and then followed suit, something deep inside him unwinding in relaxation because both he and his mate were not only safe, but together.

 

 


	12. Epilogue

 

 

“Shit,” Clint said softly as he tried to catch his breath. Beside him Bucky chuckled deeply.

“That was pretty good huh?” The bastard didn't even sound winded.

“I don't think I can feel my legs.” Clint did not whine. He maybe sounded a little plaintive though. Bucky's smug face came into his field of view and he felt a hot hand slide up his thigh, still akimbo on the bed, as a kiss was pressed to the side of his mouth.

“Sorry about that,” Bucky said, sounding anything but as he slid his hand further to give Clint's ass a firm squeeze. “I might have gotten carried away seeing how...flexible you are.” The kiss that followed the lazy drawl was soft and easy. “It's going to be fun seeing what else we can get up to together.”

“How are you so...wordy?” Who knew sex would make the Winter Soldier so loose and easy going – and more than a little chatty. “I'm barely above grunting.”

“You did a lot of that too,” Bucky grinned at him. “And saying my name.” He pressed haphazard kisses along Clint's upper chest as he outlined every little noise Clint had made on his way to orgasm. “But you went silent when you came.” Bucky's expression was contemplative when he raised his head again, leaving his hand trailing patterns low on Clint's belly, only barely brushing against the tip of his cock every other pass or so. “I wonder if I could get you to shout...”

If he'd been up to it, Clint would probably be getting hard again. As it was he felt warm all over, both sated from their first time and yet also wanting to gear up for another go. Bucky flopped back down at his side before he could tease Clint into over stimulation and he let out a groan, unsure if he was pleased or disappointed by that. A moment later Bucky passed him a bottle of water and he drank deeply before passing it back to Bucky to finish.

“How soon is too soon to talk about kinky stuff?”

“What?” Clint managed to turn onto his side to look at Bucky.

“Kinky stuff...you know...” he waved his hand and a faint blush climbed on his cheeks. It was kind of adorable.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Clint asked carefully.

“Well, you know how Tony teased us...”

“Yeah...”

“He never gets to hear I said this but...he was kind of right.” The second half of the sentence came out in a rush. “I uh – I maybe liked putting the jesses on you.” He smiled a little when he raised his eyes to Clint's, though he quick to add (with a little bit of panic), “Not that I wanted to – or want to - control you but more that it marked you as being mine?” He grabbed one of Clint's hands with his own. “I'm maybe kinda liking the idea about being possessive over you. But not in a creepy way?”

“Y-yeah?” Clint swallowed hard past something in his throat. It was an intriguing idea.

“You don't hate it?”

“I mean, I could joke about 'put a ring on it' but now's not the right time for that, huh?” Clint asked.

“Not really.” Bucky was getting a little line between his eyes and Clint leaned in to kiss it.

“A gorgeous amazing man I love says he might be a little possessive over me – I'm good.” That brought out the smile he adored. “What did you have in mind?”

“Not a collar,” Bucky said quickly. “At least – not yet? And not outside of the bedroom if we ever did. But maybe...a cuff? Bracelet? But your shooting...”

“I'd wear yours,” Clint said quickly, and this time it was his turn to blush. “I'd wear anything you gave me.” 

“It won't mess up your shooting?”

The smile that took over Bucky's face when Clint shook his head vehemently made him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

 

 

“I was hoping you'd be okay with it,” Bucky said, as he slipped out of bed. Clint watched appreciatively as he walked naked to the dresser and dug around for something inside the top drawer. He turned around and smirked when he caught Clint staring, but added a little extra swagger to his walk as he returned to the bed. “Don't laugh, it's a little silly but...” he held a smallish paper bag out as he sat back on the bed.

Clint scooted up a little into a vaguely upright position as he accepted the bag. Inside of it he found a leather cuff, purple in color just like his jess had been, with button snaps to secure it. A smile stole over his face as he turned the cuff over to find a star inside a circle embossed into it.

“Yeah...I may have gotten a Winter Soldier themed cuff for you off Etsy...” the blush was in full force, even when Clint leaned in to press a kiss to Bucky's lips.

“Your symbol, my color – it's kinda perfect.”

“Yeah?” Bucky looked so hopeful and so very pleased.

“Yeah. Put it on me?”

It was a little funny how shy Bucky looked when he took the cuff back, but the shyness vanished pretty quickly when Clint held his arm out and Bucky fit it around his wrist, snapping it closed by wrapping his hand around the wrist as well. He then raised it to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss, half on the cuff half on Clint's skin, a flash of possessive pride in his eyes.

“So uh...any other ideas?” Clint asked, fingering the cuff when Bucky let his arm go. It felt good. Different than the jess had. Better, actually.

“I was wondering how you'd feel about blindfolds...”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler - Clint's pretty okay with the idea of blindfolds. ;)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [redsector-a](http://redsector-a.tumblr.com/)where I complain about writing and reblog many things.


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